


Failure Point

by Nativestar



Series: Mac has Magic [5]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mac has Magic, Overuse of powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nativestar/pseuds/Nativestar
Summary: Feeling guilty after a mission gone wrong, Mac pushes the limits of his magic too far.
Series: Mac has Magic [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011972
Comments: 21
Kudos: 25





	Failure Point

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my Mac has Magic series, but can be read alone, no prior knowledge is required except Mac has magic, has only recently joined DXS and is younger than the show's Mac, around 22-23.
> 
> Also, thank you to Starry who provided the inspiration that created this fic!

Mac went straight from medical to the gym.

He started on the treadmill, hoping to bleed off some tension and calm his spiralling thoughts. Today had been bad, but it was the possibility of how much worse it could have been and his inability to stop it that meant he was in the gym in the middle of the night and not his own bed. Pushing those thoughts away, he focused on his body instead, the pull of air into his lungs, his gait as his muscles settled into the familiar action and the feeling of his feet absorbing the impact of each step.

He got into a steady rhythm and tried to keep his mind clear. But instead his thoughts went back to the mission they’d just finished. Or to put it more accurately, the mission they’d barely got back from alive. It had gone so _wrong_ so _fast_.

It shouldn’t have happened at all.

He should have stopped it.

He’d let it happen.

He’d _failed_.

His thoughts tumbled over each other, unrelenting, again and again until he stumbled on the treadmill and he was forced to jab at the stop button angrily. He was breathing heavily, and slapped the support bar in frustration as his normally reliable way of decompressing betrayed him.

His thoughts kept flying back to that moment, that one moment at the docks that he could remember every exact detail about. Where he was holding up a shipping container with his magic, preventing it from crushing Riley and had turned to see Jack fighting a guard while another armed with a knife approached him from behind. He’d instinctively thrown out a hand to send a bolt of energy but all that he’d produced was a static crackle of light around his fingers as he’d felt his hold on the container slip.

He hadn’t been strong enough.

It was what had driven Mac down here, in the middle of the night to the empty DXS gym. He’d been training hard to become a good agent, doing everything that had been asked of him. Or so he thought.

He’d sparred with Jack, building on what the army had taught him. He’d soaked up everything he could learn about spy craft like a sponge and could rattle off every protocol DXS used. Admittedly his firearms refresher had gone badly until he’d demonstrated to Jack how he could throw a ball of fire and then melted the gun with his magic. Jack had agreed he could skip that particular skill set as long as he promised not to destroy any more of his weapons.

But no one had trained him on using his magic.

Mac knew he was powerful, unlike just about any other magic user. But he wasn’t trained, everything was innate to Mac and learnt on the fly in the pressure cooker of real life situations. He was mostly unaware of what he could do until he had to do it. And maybe that was why it had gone so wrong today. Maybe that was why Jack was being kept overnight in medical with a row of stitches in his side and Riley had been driven home by Bozer with crutches and a badly swollen ankle.

He needed to know what his limits were so he could train himself and push past them. He had to be stronger and smarter and more adaptable. He couldn’t allow what happened today to happen again.

He looked around the room, obviously there wasn’t going to be anything as heavy as an empty shipping container to move in the gym but there was still some heavy equipment. It would be a good place to start. If he could hold something heavy while shooting off a bolt of energy like he should have done today then that would be a good start.

The weights rack seemed like a good place to begin.

Mac planted his feet into the sparring mat as if he was preparing to physically do this. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. He felt his magic surge up as he called upon it. It was a familiar comforting warmth as he gathered it up and held out his hand, directing it to the rack. The three rows of dumbbells on it rattled as it quivered a few inches off the ground, then gaining confidence, he raised it a few feet. He could feel the strain, like an ache in his arm that was spreading throughout his body. It reminded him how exhausted his body was, it had already been a very long day, but maybe this was a good thing, there were no guarantees he’d be well rested if he had to do this in the field again.

Holding the rack where it was, he raised his opposite arm. He licked his lips, preparing for the next step and he realised his breathing had become short and fast like he was still running, he took a couple of more purposeful deeper breaths and felt himself calm. Magic was a balancing act and control was everything. Feeling more focused than ever Mac tried to summon the energy to his hand, watching as blue tendrils of light crackled around his fingers, but it was nothing more than static energy. He might give someone a small electric shock, but only if they touched him first. It was hardly going to stop someone attacking a team mate.

He pushed harder, feeling the heat of his magic surge through him like fire. Behind him he registered the rattling of the dumbbells getting louder. Pressure was building up in his head, and it sounded like the drone of a thousand bees surrounding him, as small stings of pain started building.

He only realised he’d been holding his breath when he gasped, unable to continue and fell to his knees. Jarring his his head as he threw out an arm and barely stopped himself from hitting the floor. He knelt, his head bowed as he tried to breathe through the vice of pain wrapped around it.

As the white noise in his ears subsided he heard something quietly drop onto the mat and he opened his eyes to a smattering of blood drops on the mat in front of him. Dragging a shaky hand across his upper lip, it came away red.

_Shit._

That wasn’t a good sign. Or was it? It showed he’d been trying, he’d found his limit. Now he just needed to work at it, get stronger, and push past it. Staggering to his feet he found his way to the bench where he’d put his towel and used it to clean up the blood on his face and make sure he’d stopped bleeding. He winced at the bright red on the crisp whiteness of the towel and folded it over to hide it just in case someone came wandering in. His head spun a little as he bent over to retrieve his water bottle from the floor but after five minutes and drinking half the bottle he felt a lot better.

He was ready to go again.

Mac tried it again a couple more times. Each time he had to stop as his nose bled and the pain overwhelmed him, but he also managed to get a little bit further, a little bit stronger. Worryingly, it also took a little longer to recover each time and it took nearly fifteen minutes before he felt ready to try again after his last attempt. He was so close though, he was sure he could do it now, he just had to prove it. But even Mac knew mind over matter only got you so far and he promised himself this would be the last attempt tonight.

Squaring his shoulders, he took a few slow breaths to centre himself and then reached once more for his magic, bringing up more and more until he reached out his hand. Lifting the weights was smooth now, although he knew he couldn’t hold it for as long and he put out his other arm to summon the energy to it. Bolts of blue light sparked around his hand, and he could feel the strength of the charge he held. He tried to focus on bringing it together, of being able to direct it at a target. It began to coalesce into a ball of bright light. Slowly, but surely.

Too slow.

Everything started wobbling, then shaking as he tried to hold it. He had this. _He had this._ Just a little longer! There was a blinding pain in his head now and he could taste blood on his lips as it spilled over and down his chin.

There!

The bolt of energy left his hand and impacted the concrete wall on the other side of the gym. It wasn’t strong but he’d _done_ it! Hysterical laughter bubbled up overriding the pain for a moment, then he tried to shut it all down. And realised he was in trouble. The magic was in control now, not Mac, he was just a conduit for the flow of power through him. He wanted to stop. He _had_ to stop. But it was like he’d jammed the _on_ button on his magic and he couldn’t stop it. It was just going to build and build until he came apart at the seams.

He lost his hold on the weights rack, but instead of falling the weights separated and started flying around him, circling, and picking up speed. His magic was scattered now, and the bolt of energy forked, like lightening, spreading across the far wall.

Mac wanted to scream but he didn’t have the air as he frantically tried to focus his thoughts.

“Mac! What the hell are you doing?”

The angry voice snapped him out of it and everything _stopped_. The loud bang of weights hitting the ground seemed to echo through the room, although Mac could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears. His head wobbled on his neck as he turned unfocused eyes to the figure at the door who looked a lot like Jack.

Except Jack was in medical because of Mac. So it couldn’t be Jack.

But Mac didn’t get the chance to figure out who it was as the black at the edge of his vision crowded in and he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

Jack knew there was something wrong with Mac. Something that was bothering him. The kid had been just a little too quiet on the journey home and while quiet wasn’t exactly unusual for Mac, now that Jack was getting to know him he was getting better at figuring out what the different kinds of quiet meant. And this one felt a lot like the ‘getting lost in his own head’ kind. The kind that Jack needed to do something about.

So once medical finally released him, for once agreeing with Jack that he didn’t actually need to stay the night, he set about tracking down his warlock. He knew Mac hadn’t swiped out of the building so he started ticking off his usual haunts. The labs were the first place he’d looked and a surprising bust. Jack had been sure he’d find Mac elbow deep in spare parts and grease, or goggles and chemical names Jack refused to even try and pronounce.

The war room was also a bust. Mac had learnt early on that if the windows were frosted no one would enter uninvited except Patty and so he often went there if he was looking for solitude and quiet.

He didn’t find Mac in the locker room neither but he did find his gym bag abandoned on the floor. So finally, Jack had made his way down to the gym housed in one of the lower floors of the building. It was large and well outfitted, needing to cater to everyone from lab techs to the several tac teams that the Phoenix foundation ran. Jack didn’t really expect the kid to be down here. It was the middle of the night and he’d seen how exhausted he’d looked when he’d been sat in medical waiting to make sure Jack and Riley would be okay.

So he’d really not been expecting to open the door and see the chaotic swirl of weights and energy that was flying around the room. The air in the room was charged and Jack could feel it on his skin, like pins and needles. He stopped, barely a foot into the room as he saw Mac standing in the middle of it all with his golden eyes blazing, a sharp contrast to the red blood flowing down his face.

“Mac! What the hell are you doing?” Jack shouted, fear turning his words harsh and sharp.

Mac turned to look at him and Jack could see that the blood was _streaming_ from Mac’s nose, both garish and terrifying. He wasn’t sure Mac was even seeing him though when he suddenly dropped. Fell to the ground like his strings had been cut _dropped_.

Jack’s heart lurched, he’d known something was wrong, he’d _known_ it, if only he’d come looking for him earlier.

Everything in the room stopped when Mac dropped. A loud and synchronised bang that made the world seem silent in its wake. And Jack suddenly realised he could hear his own rapid breathing but he couldn’t hear Mac’s and he was kneeling by his side before he even registered the pain that flared in his side as his stitches pulled.

“Mac? C’mon kid. Don’t do this to me. Mac?” Jack said as he felt for a pulse at Mac’s neck and with a rush of relief, quickly found a rapid beat. It didn’t reassure him too much though, Mac was out of it and completely pliant as Jack gently rolled him onto his back and gave him a quick visual once over looking for any signs of injury besides the blood on his face.

“Mac, you’re scaring me, bud. Can you hear me? Open your eyes, Mac.”

Mac’s eyes fluttered, but stayed closed.

“Mac, I’m about two seconds from calling medical down here, and I know how much you’ll hate that. Open your eyes, pal. Talk to me.”

This time Mac groaned, his head falling to one side, Jack cupped his jaw and steadied it, resting his other hand on Mac’s chest feeling the short and fast breaths as Mac clawed his way to consciousness and opened his eyes.

“There he is,” Jack praised as he relaxed a bit.

“Jack?” Mac mumbled.

“The one and only.”

“Thought you were in medical? Did you escape?”

“Nah, they released me. Takes more than a little blood loss and stitches to keep me in a bed.” Jack reassured him, glad Mac was coherent but still concerned at the glassy look in his eyes. The fact that Mac hadn’t shrugged off Jack’s hands and sat up hadn’t gone unnoticed neither. “But enough about me, what was all that about, Mac? Are you okay?”

“Mmm fine.” Mac slurred, his eyes slipping closed.

“Hey, hey! None of that!” Jack said, tapping his cheek.

Mac blinked his eyes back open.

“I’m fine.” He repeated, annoyance creeping in. “Just over did it a bit that time.”

But Jack could see the fear in his eyes that he was trying to hide, he’d scared himself with whatever he’d been doing and _that_ scared Jack too.

“Over did _what?_ ” Jack asked as Mac shakily rolled over, trying to sit up. He immediately paled and breathed a quiet _whoa_ and Jack gently pushed his head down to rest on his knees, leaving his hand resting on Mac’s back just in case he took a dive towards the mat again.

“Okay, you can tell me later. First thing we’re gonna do is get you to medical.”

“I’m fine, just give me a minute.” Mac complained, his voice muffled from where his head was resting on his bent legs.

“Fine people don’t nearly take a header after _sitting up_.” Jack pointed out. He looked around and spotted a bottle of water and towel on one of the benches nearby. Taking a chance that Mac wasn’t going to face plant in the few seconds he’d be gone, Jack retrieved them, offering the bottle to Mac and shaking out the towel to--

“Mac. What is this?” Jack asked surprisingly calm, unsure as to whether he needed to yell at Mac or carry him straight to medical, when he saw the several fresh blood stains inside the towel.

“Uh, I’ve had a couple of nose bleeds tonight.” Mac said, his shoulders tense, bracing himself for Jack’s reaction.

“And you didn’t think to stop after the first one?”

“They’re just nose bleeds, Jack.” Mac said with a shrug. No big deal. As if it happened all the time. Did it? Had this been happening all along and Jack just hadn’t noticed until now? Mac finished the water and Jack noted that he seemed to be doing better now. More alert and less like he was either going to hurl or pass out. And Jack decided getting a medical opinion on the nose bleeds was more important right now than figuring out what had been going on.

“You think you can stand? Maybe walk as well?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Mac replied sounding anything _but_ confident.

Jack stood, ignoring again the pull of his stitches and reached a hand back down to help Mac up. But Mac just stared at it dubiously.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. It looked a lot worse than it was. A couple of days of rest and light duties until the stitches come out. I promise.” Mac looked relieved as he took Jack’s hand and used it to get upright, wobbling slightly as he found his feet. “You can ask the doc yourself when we go get you checked out.” Jack finished.

“I’m not going to medical.” Mac immediately protested.

“Uh yeah, you are.” Jack corrected. “You can’t even stand by yourself.” He pointed out. Mac immediately stopped leaning on Jack but stumbled as he overcompensated and would have nearly gone over if it hadn’t been for Jack reaching out and steadying him.

“Lets go.” Jack nudged and leaning heavily on Jack with a sigh, Mac allowed himself to be escorted out the gym towards medical.

* * *

Mac sat in awkward silence on the bed in medical. Jack had hoisted himself up to sit next to him, swinging his legs slightly and an air of forced casualness around him. Since Mac had refused to lie back on the bed, he suspected Jack was worried he might take a header off of it, and given that the chance of that happening wasn’t as low as Mac would like it to be, he hadn’t complained about the hovering for once.

A nurse had already been by to take Mac’s vitals, his blood pressure had been low but he’d managed to avoid an IV so far by promising to eat and drink something. He’d made short work of the chocolate bar Jack had gotten for him from the vending machine down the corridor and was now working his way through a sports drink while they waited for the on call doctor.

“So you told the nurse that this was because you overstretched your powers?”

“Yeah.”

“This has happened before?”

Mac shrugged.

“Not very often. Its usually only in an emergency that I’m pushing that hard.” Mac finished his drink, screwing the cap back on the empty bottle. “It looks worse than it is, I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep, Jack. We really don’t need to wait for the doctor.” He added hopefully but the look Jack gave him told him in no uncertain terms that they were staying. Mac sighed. He was too tired to argue, although he was feeling a lot better his head was pounding and his body ached.

“What emergency was there in the gym?” Jack asked carefully, knowing full well there wasn’t one.

“None.”

Mac started to feel the bite of anger at Jack’s questions. What did it matter if he pushed himself a little too far? He was doing it to help the team, to make himself a better agent! Why did he feel like he was about to be told off like a kid, and what did Jack care if he went a little to hard? He’d once thrown up after a gruelling hike during basic training, and no one had made a big deal out of that.

“So help me understand, Mac. What were you doing?”

“I was just training!”

“Training shouldn’t involve bleeding and passing out!” Jack hit back.

Mac clenched his jaw. Maybe Jack hadn’t realised it yet. Maybe he hadn’t noticed Mac’s failure between his bleeding side and worrying over Riley. Surely, he’d understand if he knew what had really happened today. But Mac didn’t want to tell him, he didn’t want to see Jack’s disappointment. Not yet.

“I can handle it.” Mac said.

“Apparently not.” Jack shot back, waving a hand at Mac who rolled his eyes. Next time he’d make sure he was alone and not on DXS property.

“Why are you even here, Jack? You should go home, get some rest.”

Jack’s hands curled into fists and he took a deep breath, Mac imagined he was counting to ten before he spoke again.

“Because the second I leave, you’re going to be making your escape attempt out that door and I _need_ to make sure you’re okay. Because you really scared me tonight, Mac.” He said honestly. The genuine concern in his voice made Mac’s irritation at Jack start to slip away. “I’m sorry. I’m coming at this all wrong.” Jack admitted with a sigh. “I just want to understand, I know something was bothering you and I’m guessing that’s the cause of everything that happened tonight?”

Mac sighed. He might as well tell Jack now, he’d get it out of him one way or another. Besides, Mac planned on being honest in their debriefing tomorrow, Thornton needed to know what had caused two of her agents to end up in medical.

“You and Riley nearly died today. Because I wasn’t strong enough.”

“What?” Jack frowned, his facing screwed up like he was trying to remember something he’d missed.

“I wasn’t strong enough to both hold that container and stop that man with the knife. I couldn’t do it. You got sliced up and Riley nearly got crushed.” Mac admitted bitterly. “I’ve done so much training these last few months with you and Thornton, but nothing to do with my magic, and if I’d been stronger, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

Jack was silent for a moment, his face unreadable.

“Oh bud.” Jack sighed. “Nothing that happened today was your fault.”

Jack slipped off the bed carefully to stand directly in front of Mac.

“Our jobs are dangerous. And that’s never going to change, no matter how strong you get.” Jack paused for a moment. “Do you know what I remember from today?”

He waited until Mac shook his head.

“I remember when I saw them release that container being terrified that Riley would be crushed and so grateful that you were there to save her. I remember the warning you shouted at me, that meant I got grazed instead of stabbed with that knife. You were a hero today, pal. Not a failure.”

Mac sat stunned.

“Kid, you’re focusing on what you didn’t do, rather than what you _did_. And what you did was pretty amazing. I’m proud of you.”

Mac blinked.

“Oh.”

It was all he could say, he hadn’t seen it that way at _all._ But Jack was a seasoned agent, and more than that, Mac trusted his judgement and… if _Jack_ said he’d done good. Maybe there was something to it. Mac still felt like he could have, no, _should_ have done more and he wasn’t going to admit he was wrong for wanting to do something about it, but he was willing to admit there was probably a better way of doing it.

“Now, if you want to do some training with your magic, I don’t think that’s a bad idea, hoss. But what _is_ a bad idea is pushing yourself so hard you end up in medical.”

Mac nodded and Jack wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, coaxing a smile out of him.

“I got enough grey hairs because of you, man. Don’t go giving me any more, okay?” Jack asked.

“Okay. I’ll be more careful, Jack.” Mac agreed actually meaning it for once, and met Jack’s eyes to show his sincerity.

“Can we go home now?” Mac added hopefully. Jack’s eyes softened and Mac held back a grin, it was one of Jack’s tells and it signalled that he was about to give in. _Any second_ \--

“Alright, let me go find Sandra--”

“Sandy.”

“-- get her to check your vitals again, if they’re more or less back to normal, then you can skip the doc. But I’m staying with you tonight, gotta make sure your brain doesn’t leak out of your ears.”

“I’m _fine_.” Mac repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. But it was without any heat. He wasn’t going to protest, he’d nearly lost not one but _two_ team mates today. He needed the reassurance that Jack was okay just as much, if not more.


End file.
